Dead in the Water
by ashinsnow
Summary: DEADLIEST CATCH FIC: A story of a father's love for his sons, a brother's love for his brother and the love of the family that is the crew on the Cornelia Marie.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey ya'll. So this is my first story in a longggg time lol. so be gentle lol. I love Deadliest Catch and hopefully you'll love the story.**

**First Chapter coming at ya!**

It was the first day of opie season. In a gracious gesture of good fortune, the bering sea was calm almost to the point of serenity, the sky was summertime blue and most importantly the forcast was optimistic. Onboard the Cornelia Marie, deckhands were loading bait and arranging pots, with smiles and jokes in abundance. The weather and the promise of the next profitable season had everyone one in high spirits none more so than Captain Phil who was counting his blessings to merely be on his beloved boat again after his brush with death the previous opie season.

He surveyed the busy deck once again from his rightful place in the captain's chair, smiling briefly at the sight of Freddy and his eldest son Josh laughing at the expense of Dave who had uncharacteristically missed the bait-cod thrown his way and now stood with fish juice dripping off his front.

"I don't know Dave, this might be some sort of bad omen for you on this trip!" Josh chortled as he playfully slapped his shoulder.

"Or maybe it's just an indication of how bad a thrower you are," Dave replied sullenly as he attempted to wipe fish guts off his rain gear.

Phil smiled to himself again as he re-checked his planned route while sipping a bottled water-- one aspect of his new health regime that he had strived to follow through with.

"Now if only I can give up smoking..." he muttered to himself as he turned to once again to gaze at his deck.

He mentally counted his deckhands realizing that someone was missing in action. Someone who too often found ways to elude the dirtywork that every ship depended on.

"Dammit Jake..." Phil cursed as he reached for his intercom radio. "Where the hell is Jake?" he growled while his good mood quickly faded.

Josh shrugged as he faced his Dad in the wheelhouse and the rest of the crew seemed just as clueless.

"He went to the head, but that was a while ago," shouted Josh so his father could hear him.

Phil let out an angry sigh as he heaved himself up from his chair and pounded down the stairs to the galley. If Jake was down there sleeping, smoking or eating he swore he was going to throttle him.

"Jake!" Phil called. "Where the hell are you?"

A quick survey of the area revealed that Jake was neither in bed or in the kitchen. Just as Phil's blood pressure threatened to sky-rocket he heard the muffled sound of a toilet flushing and Jake appeared around the corner.

"How fucking long have you been in there?" Phil heatedly questioned his son.

"Sorry," Jake mumbled while turning to head back outside.

The one word answer without Jake's characteristic back-talking or amusing remarks, left Phil puzzled. And his son had looked awful pale. Phil followed Jake onto the deck.

"Jake, come here."

"Yeah Dad?"

"Are you sick? And I want a one-word answer, yes or no will do." Phil directed.

"I..." Jake began.

"Jake... yes or no." Phil ordered.

"It's just a cold," Jake quickly spat out before his Dad could stop him again.

"Dammit Jake, if you were puking your guts out before we even leave the dock, how the hell do you think you're gonna do in 20 foot waves?" Phil lectured. "I need a full crew and if you can't do the job, then I need to find someone who can."

Jake stood silent fighting the already familiar taste of bile and the need to throw-up once again. Realizing that this would not be the most opportune time, he bit the inside of his cheek until the nausea had passed. Jake was hurt by his father's harsh words but knew now was not the time to wallow in self-pity. His Dad wanted affirmation that he could work, a sign that he did only have a bad cold and could stick it out. So he fought the trembling that was coursing through his arms and legs, pulled himself together, and stood up straight.

"I'm fine," Jake replied slowly and forced himself to smile-- a mere shadow of his true charismatic beam but it would pass. "And you know that me sick would still be forty times better than anyone else you could find that was healthy."

This comment forced a relieved laugh from Phil. He wanted to believe that Jake was truly fine and so hearing it from his son allowed him to do so and he pushed any wary doubts he had earlier into the back of his mind.

"Alright then, get to work." he said as he gently punched his youngest son on the arm.

As his Dad headed back to the wheelhouse, Jake turned to help with the bait, feeling his false smile slide easily from his face. "Fuck me," he muttered to himself as he felt another intense wave of nausea threaten to overtake him. He grabbed quickly for the side of the bin he was next to and managed to hold himself up as his stomach turned itself over.

From across the deck, Josh watched his brother in distress obvious only to him who knew him best. "Oh fuck," he mumbled.

"What was that?" said Murray as he passed behind Josh.

"Oh nothing," Josh replied attempting to smile and mostly failing. "I hope it's nothing," Josh repeated to himself as he darkly watched his little brother struggle to stand upright again and continue with his work.

**I'd love for you to Review!!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the 2nd chapter!! Thanks for all the reviews! Enjoy!**

Completely loaded and ready for another opilio crab season, the Cornelia Marie departed from St

Completely loaded and ready for another opilio crab season, the Cornelia Marie departed from St. Paul and headed for open water. Captain Phil was once again in high spirits after the brief spat with his youngest son Jake who was starting the season with a nasty cold, but had convinced his father that he could handle his work-load. Now, Phil once again examined his charted route in the wheelhouse, while his crew below were slowly and intermittently setting-up bait. Due to raucous good moods there was an abundance of horseplay involved in the process and an infinite amount of cod particles were not making it into the bait-cans but instead were flying through the air at helpless victims.

Jake who had been feeling increasingly nauseas during the loading process was now experiencing a pleasently quieted stomach and partook in the fish fight with much of his normal exuberance.

"Haha, missed me," he taunted as he ducked impressively to elude a nicely aimed throw by Dave. As Jake threw his head back to miss another onslaught this time thrown by his brother Josh, he felt a shock of pain shoot up his neck and had to choke down the cry that wanted to escape from his mouth. Instead he managed to regain his balance and straightened up grimacing with his hands on either side of his neck.

"Okay there Jake?" chided Freddy from his own battle position behind the coiler.

"Yeah," muttered Jake clearly in pain. "Just tweaked my neck, but I'm fine," he continued while managing to profuse the confident air he was known for. Last thing he needed was to be both sick and injured. But needling in the back of his mind was a voice he couldn't ignore trying to convince him that his sore neck and flu-like symptoms were connected in a far more sinister fashion than he wanted to accept. Instead Jake shook-off the pain and the dark thoughts and returned to the battle with as much gusto as he could muster.

Phil who was watching the ruckus from above, although amused, was growing slightly impatient with his seemingly immature crew and decided to let them know.

"Guys, can we grow up please and maybe get some work done?"

Josh turned laughingly to the wheelhouse a mischievious grin still plastered on his face and answered his dad; "Awww, you're no fun!"

The rest of the crew still laughing, turned to their work and managed to finish the setup quickly. Now left with only waiting until they reached their first location to offload the pots, they tramped inside and removed their fish-soaked rain gear. Still in a goofy mood, Jake reached to shove Dave playfully while he was removing his pants so as to trip him up. Dave maintained his balance however and once stepping quickly out of his pants, lunged at Jake to exact revenge. Jake letting out a gleeful laugh ducked away and made to run up the hall away from Dave's assault.

"C'mon Dave! I was just having a little fun!" Jake called jokingly over his shoulder as he pushed past Freddy and towards the state room and possible safety.

"Well so am I!" laughed Dave menacingly as he managed to reach a long arm out and grab Jake by the back of his shirt.

What happened next was both surprising and painful to Jake as he felt his feet leave the ground as if he were being clothes-lined. As his head jerked back he felt the same painful shock shoot up his spinal cord as earlier, but this time it was a million times worse. Jake's body went limp with pain and he fell heavily to the floor as an agonized cry was ripped from his very insides.

"Holy shit, Jake are you okay?" Dave frantically yelped as he kneeled quickly at his side.

Jake lay unmoving with his eyes tightly shut as intense pain dissipated up his neck and into his head. He could hear Dave's worried calls soon echoed by Josh's who sounded infinitely scared.

"Did he hit his head?" Murray questioned sounding unusually frazzled. "Should I call Phil?"

Hearing the mention of calling his Dad produced a rush of adrenaline and fear that dragged Jake unwillingly into the present and he opened his eyes blinking in the glaringly bright light. "Fuck..." he groaned as the brightness of the light caused his head to throb.

"Jake!" Josh practically yelled. "Are you all right?"

Jake slowly looked into his brother's eyes and seeing his own fear mirrored there felt the need to reassure both of them.

"I'm terrific," he grunted, making a feeble attempt at humor. "My neck's just sore from earlier... it's nothing really."

"Nothing? Jake you were practically unconscious!" retorted Josh not buying his nonchalance.

"Yeah Jake. You took a pretty hard hit. I'm really sorry," Dave added looking exceedingly so.

"No biggie," Jake replied as he struggled to a sitting position with the aid of the entire crew who looked daunted by his sudden movement. "Just remember," he continued, "payback's a bitch."

"Hah," Dave managed to laugh. "I can't wait."

"I think you should probably sit down Jake," Murray ordered as Jake rose to his feet and tottered briefly back and forth.

"Yeah I think that's a good call," Josh added as he reached to grab the arm of his swaying brother.

"Look guys, I'm fine," Jake responded and started walking slowly to the table. "But could someone get me some aspirin?" he grunted as he sat down slowly as if he were an 80-year-old man. He held both hands up to his neck and rubbed as if to massage the pain away, noting to himself that he felt as if he'd been hit by a bus.

"Here," Josh reached out a hand of aspirin and a glass of water.

"Thanks dude," Jake managed as he quickly swallowed down the painkillers.

The rest of the crew slowly went back to their own affairs after milling around Jake anxiously for several minutes as if to see if he would pass out. Once they were alone at the table Josh began his stern interrogation of his younger brother.

"Jake is there something you need to tell me? Are you really okay? Don't go pulling the same shit Dad did last year man, you need to talk to me if there is something wrong."

Jake looked down at his hands. The truth was he didn't know if there was something seriously wrong with him. All he could think about was how worried he had been last year when his Dad had gotten sick and how worried he still was over his father's health. He didn't want to cause his father or his brother anymore stress. "And plus," he throught, "it really probably is just a bad cold."

"Josh I admit I'm sick, but it's just the flu. And I really don't want Dad thinking I can't pull my weight so if we could hold back on the details that would be great." Jake answered.

Josh stared unblinkingly at his brother, trying to determine if what he had just said was the truth or straight bullshit. He couldn't decide.

"Okay man, but if I see any sign that you're getting worse, I'm telling Dad and we're taking you back to St. Paul."

Jake nodded slightly at his brother's serious words. He detected once again the look of fear in Josh's eyes and tried to smile reasurringly but instead he just sighed.

**Review, review, review! lol**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, here's the next chapter. **

3 hours later:

Captain Phil had just notified Murray that they were about to set the pots and he was now spreading the word to the rest of his crewmates who were in various stages of sleep or lethargy. He found Josh sitting at the table smoking a cigarette and staring into space with deeply furrowed eyebrows and a look of what Murray could only describe as sorrow.

"Josh? You okay man?" he asked concerned.

"What?" Josh started coming out of his trance and turning quickly to face Murray. "Oh, sorry Murray. I was just thinking."

"Okay... well it's showtime." Murray concluded after patting Josh lightly on the shoulder.

"Great, I'll wake-up Jake," Josh declared as he stood-up and headed towards the bunk he shared with his younger brother.

Jake was clearly fast asleep, his breathing slow and measured, but the expression on his brother's face was hardly one of peaceful slumber. Jake appeared to be almost frowning with a look of pained consternation shadowing his face.

"Hey Jake," Josh softly mumbled as he reached to touch his brother's shoulder. "Gotta get up man, it's time to get crabby," he continued using one of his brother's own catch phrases.

His attempt had received no response, in fact, Jake hadn't reacted at all. Slightly worried, Josh shoved Jake and repeated, louder this time, "Jake, get up man!"

As he observed his brother's still sleeping form, a panic began to grow in Josh that he couldn't completely explain. Jake was usually hard to wake, this time was surely no different, but even so Josh could feel his mouth become dry—he realized his palms were actually sweaty.

"Jake!" Josh practically yelled it this time and quickly drew the attention of the rest of the crew who were getting dressed for the harsh conditions outdoors.

"Josh what's up?" Dave asked seemingly concerned as well.

"He's not waking-up!" came the strangled response from Josh as he full-forcedly shoved his brother causing his body to roll over and a low groan to escape.

"Jake? Jake talk to me!" Josh frantically ordered.

"Sup?" Jake sleepily replied as he blinked his eyes open to view the entire crew staring at him with worry in their eyes.

"You wouldn't wake up! You scared the shit out of me dude!" Josh answered angrily running a hand through his hair.

"Sorry, I was really asleep there I guess," Jake replied slowly as he moved to jump out of bed.

"Okay guys," Murray finally started after an awkward pause had filled the room, "Let's get the show on the road."

"I'll get ready…" Jake answered as began to dress quickly. Jake moved quickly and ignored the stern glance he was still receiving from his brother. He desperately wanted Josh to leave so he would not have to desperately hide the pain that was shooting through every part of his body, or fight the nausea that was threatening to consume him.

"Josh I'm fine, go get ready," Jake finally grunted as he fought to stay standing long enough for his brother to leave.

"Okay," Josh stated slowly and turned to leave.

Jake waited miserably as he heard Josh's footsteps recede outside then fell heavily to the floor clutching his head. He wanted to cry like a little kid or scream like a crazy person. The pain was unbearable and he finally dragged himself to the head where he dry-heaved for what seemed like eternity. When he was finally done he rested his head on the porcelain toilet seat and prayed to God that he would have the strength to keep up his charade.

Finally after far too long, he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, splashed water on his face and stared into the mirror. Looking back at him was a face so in pain that he didn't know how he could hide it. He was remarkable pale and his eye were dark and sunk so deeply into his face that he looked like he was starving. Disgusted he quickly turned away and shakily left the head to continue dressing and then he would join his crew on deck and he would set the pots if it killed him.

"Hah," he laughed to himself, realizing that it just might.

**Please review, and this will prob be the last chapter for a bit cause i'm going out of town. But i promise i will update as soon as possible.!! love!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm Back! I hope I didn't make you guys wait too long! Enjoy!**

Working on the deck of a crabbing boat in the Bering Sea was normally considered a fairly treacherous career and it broke many men far stronger than Jake Harris. Where Jake surpassed most was in his strength of heart and character, that enabled him to be a highly skilled and competent deckhand and inevitably, soon to grow into one of the best in the fleet. The deck of the Cornelia Marie had become a second home to Jake and he worked with a sense of great ease and belonging.

But today things were drastically different. Jake felt no sense of purpose or achievement in his work but instead found every task as simple as putting one foot in front of the other, a significant challenge. Every muscle in his body ached, as they never had before after even a 36-hour run. He found himself alternating between feverish sweats and uncontrollable shivering and had to consistently fight down the urge to vomit. Several times his stomach got the better of him and he heaved painfully into one of the bins as his fellow deck-mates watched and shook their heads at Jake's misery. Through all of the other symptoms, Jake could easily decide, if allowed the choice, to eliminate the most excruciating element—the headaches that made him feel as though someone was splitting open his skull with a crowbar.

His greatest battle was to combat the urge to lie down on the deck and scream for the coastguard or merely jump over the rail and silence his misery beneath the icy sea. He had absolutely no notion of how long they had been working, and sadly realized that even though it seemed he had been working for all eternity, it probably had only been several hours.

Josh had been closely watching his brother throughout the day and had noticed many of the pained grimaces and head clutching. He felt helpless in his indecision. His head told him to tattle on Jake to their father and get Jake the medical attention he clearly needed, but his heart couldn't bear to betray his brother's trust. And so he watched and waited for the decision to be forced.

It didn't take long.

They were hauling their first test pot and both Jake and Josh were working the rail. At this point Jake was merely content to be still standing and Josh was getting increasingly worried by his brother's sluggish performance. As the pot rose above the water a hoot of happiness erupted from the deckhands who were ecstatic to see nearly a full pot of opilio crab. Jake managed only a meek smile and reached his hands out to grab hold of the right side of the pot that he was responsible for. Just as his hand formed it's grip a shock of pain exploded in Jake's head like a lightning bolt and he felt the pot slip from his grasp as he fell to the deck.

Josh saw his brother go down and instead of paying increased attention to the pot which was now under only his control, he lost focus, and the wildly swinging pot clipped him squarely in the shoulder before knocking him on his butt and continuing it's path of destruction.

"Oh shit!" Dave yelled as he made a wild attempt to stop the pot that was careening back to the rail of the boat. Freddie scrambled to help and they were able to contain it back in the block, as Murray ran to check Josh and Phil's frightened shout was amplified over the boat:

"What the fuck is going on down there? Jake you nearly killed your brother!" Phil was scared shitless as he had just watched both of his sons seemingly taken down by a rogue pot and his usual response in times of panic, was anger.

Down on deck, Murray had helped Josh to his feet, who appeared to be okay, although shaken and fairly bruised.

"Naw, I'm okay," Josh muttered as he gripped his battered shoulder, "It's definitely not broken, just sore."

"Well I'm glad. That was a really close call," Murray replied as he continued to watch Josh.

Jake meanwhile had struggled back to his feet and hurried to his brother's side.

"Josh! I'm really sorry man, I don't know what happened, I must have slipped," Jake apologized quickly with a nervous look on his face. If Josh was truly hurt after a mistake that was clearly his own, he didn't know how he could ever live with it. And although he felt nearly delirious, he had still heard his father's harsh reprimand and was duly ashamed.

"Jake, I'm fine," Josh replied quickly taking in Jake's frantic countenance. "It's just a bump. It woke me up," he continued attempting to laugh.

"Hah, good," Jake attempted to laugh too but instead it turned into a coughing fit that left him nearly breathless.

"You okay there bud? You took a pretty good hit there too," Dave asked concerned as he slapped Jake on his back in an attempt to ease his coughing.

"No… I just slipped…" Jake managed in between coughs.

"Is everyone okay down there? Or should I just sit here and wonder?" Phil called out, obviously annoyed with the crew's disregard.

"We're fine Dad!" Josh shouted while waving a thumbs-up over his head.

"Alrighty, back to work then," Phil replied and sat back in this chair.

The men moved back to work, and Josh informed Murray that he was going down to grab ice for his shoulder. As he was making his way across the deck he heard Dave's voice asking Jake a question. He couldn't hear a response so he looked over his shoulder and saw the sight that he knew would haunt him forever.

Jake stood in the exact same place where he had last seen him, his posture sunken and defeated. His face was hauntingly pale and he was looking at Dave as if trying to respond to his question but instead he just blinked. Josh began walking back towards his brother, beginning to panic but not quite sure why.

"Jake?" Josh called as he made his way across the deck. As he neared his brother he saw that there was something on his face, something dark, blood. Blood dripping from his brother's nose, no not dripping, streaming and dropping in puddles to the deck below.

"Jake!" Josh yelled and felt himself break into a run. Josh felt like he was running through mountains of sand, he couldn't move his feet fast enough and everything was in thundering slow motion.

Jake slowly turned to look toward Josh as he heard his scream and wanted desperately to reply, to tell his brother that everything was fine, but he couldn't. His eyes were heavy and he could hear a voice in his head cleverly suggest he close his eyes. And since that seemed like such a good idea, he did.

And everything went black.

**Okay… don't worry. Jake is not dead….yet. lol JK! I would never do that…well maybe**.

**Anyway, please review! I love to hear all opinions!**


	5. Chapter 5

"JAKE

"JAKE!!" Josh's scream seemingly echoed to the far corners of Alaska as he lunged to catch his brother's fallen form.

"Jake? Jake c'mon, talk to me," Josh frantically prodded his brother's lifeless body.

"Oh my god," Dave gasped as he kneeled at Jake's other side, "What the fuck happened?"

"He's sick! He's been sick, I should have done something…" Josh muttered incoherently as he shook Jake's bloodied face between his hands. "He's barely breathing…."

"What's going on down there, someone tell me what's happening!" came Phil's frantic order over the intercom.

"I'll go relieve your Dad and call the coast guard," relayed a stunned Murray to the rest of the crew as he turned to sprint towards the wheelhouse.

Josh had barely heard any of the commotion. All he could hear was the pounding blood in his ears that gave the effect of standing in a giant seashell. All he could see was his brother's white face in stark contrast with the splashes of deep-red blood that now also covered his own hands. He knew that this was all his fault, that he could have prevented this and now his little brother was lying in his arms, only half-alive.

The arrival of his father jolted him out of his self-deprecating trance.

"Oh shit… Jacob! What's wrong with him? Did he get hit by the pot?" Phil cried as he shook his son in a vain attempt to wake him.

"Dad… Jake's sick, really sick. I should have told you. I'm sorry… I'm really sorry," Josh felt a tear slip down his cheek as he pleaded to his father's stony face for forgiveness.

But there was no response. Instead Phil took Jake from where he rested in Josh's lap and cradled him as he had twenty years before, rocking back and forth, silent tears sliding down his face, as he felt his youngest son's fading heartbeat.

This was not the way it was supposed to happen. Fathers were not meant to bury their own sons. The entire crew lived each day on the Bering Sea with the haunting realization that any day could be their last. Accidents were plentiful and catastrophic, but to have his son taken from him by a freak illness while at sea seemed cruelly ironic.

"The coast guard's on their way!" Murray's voice came from above, "But the weather's picking-up, they said it might take them a while."

"Jake doesn't have a while…" Freddie sadly murmured as he sat with his head in his hands.

Josh got up suddenly and walked a short distance away before turning to kick a bin while letting out an agonized howl. "Fuck!" he screamed angrily running his hands through his hair, before falling once again to the deck.

"Oh God, please…" Josh whispered. "Please."

The rest of the crew stared forlornly, completely at a loss on the deck of the Cornelia Marie for the first time in their lives.

**Sorry, it's perdy short this time… it just felt right to leave it there. I was sad when writing this… but it might have something to do with the music I was listening to lol. If you want to be depressed listen to "Cold Water" by Damien Rice while reading this…. Hah. Fun stuff.**

**Anyway please Review!!**


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